I find that the people I get along with are the people who fade and eventually disconnect. I am always seeking an argument with the people I really care about. Looking back, I see how families I lived with always discouraged the constant fighting I had going between my siblings. But now I see the members of those families, they’ve learned to be so agreeable that they let one another drift away. 

Gabe told me about memories he has of his close friend and our cousin: a young man who died this time last year. His eyes flooded as he told me about how much he remembers fighting with him. But as he speaks, I see the connection, the pain in re-realizing he’ll never fight with him again. I never fought with our cousin, we got along perfectly. I found myself unable to cry at his funeral. 

I live for the intimate moments: the screamed insults and blushed apologies. If there aren’t disagreements in my relationships, I see no reason to hold onto them. They’ll never teach me anything or show me a beauty I can’t already see. 

It is far better, I believe, to reach out and grab what I’d like. To tell people exactly how I feel about them, and to cause hell. Because the moments I let slip by silently will never be the ones I remember.